Of Pigs and Bacon: Portomarin to Palas de Rei - September 9, 2024

Along the roadside high above the Minho river, during the early morning hours of September 9, 2024, vendors set up stalls displaying cured meats, cheeses and other delectable wares. Carla looked longingly at them and announced with profound regret, “We have to wait until we reach Santiago.” “Yeah, we don’t want to carry all this on our backs,” I said, knowing how much it hurt Carla to restrain herself from buying up everything in sight.

By way of introduction, it was the fourth day of walking with my friends, Carla, John and Giulia from O Cebreiro to Santiago de Compostela, and today we walked from Portomarin to Palas de Rei. Although the day was uneventful, it was still special. Every day meant something to me during this seven-day Camino to Santiago de Compostela—our second one together. We had walked along the coastal route in 2022 and enjoyed the journey so much we did it again in 2024, this time along the St. James Way. The memories may fade, but the camaraderie with friends and the people I met hold a significant place in my lived experiences. 

This is the point when I wish I had a photographic memory. Wouldn’t it be cool if you could pull up any image with a word search like a computer? So, it's an understatement to say how grateful I am that John and Carla diligently photographed our Camino de Santiago. Now as I reconstruct specific events of the day, my journal and the photos remind me that the air was crisp at 8 AM when we stepped outside our hotel in Portomarin. Carla took our requisite selfie before we set off down the path and gathered our strength to walk 25 km to reach Palas de Rei.

Once we’d crossed the Minho river, we started uphill on soft soil in wooded areas. This was one of the two routes leading out of the town of Portomarin, the other one being the one we had entered from yesterday. Both paths merged not far ahead and brought us to the main road leading to Santiago. As we continued the steady climb, I thanked the universe for giving me a good night’s sleep. My legs and hips moved like well-oiled machine parts. Maybe that morning I could have climbed Mount Everest… and then collapsed into oblivion by noon. 

Luckily I wasn’t trying to conquer Mount Everest, but walking in the Galicia region of Spain where the rural landscape provided lots of sensory stimulation. I saw pretty flowers I’d never seen before along the roadside. Later I discovered that they’re passion flowers native to warm tropical areas. Behind a wired fence I saw pink fat pigs, a sight that had me struggling to connect them to my breakfast bacon. The odor from cow manure followed us when we were deep in the countryside where we walked by dilapidated farmhouses. I asked, “What do you think happened to these farms?” John said, “Maybe the younger generations don’t want to farm, or maybe they have better opportunities in the cities.” Or maybe, farming was back-breaking when they could run roadside cafes instead. These establishments drew countless pilgrims in with their freshly brewed coffee, snacks and bathrooms.

Shortly before 1 PM, we arrived at a narrow and steep trail descending into what looked like an unknown abyss. I took one look and my knees started to talk back to me. Meanwhile Giulia had a stern discussion with her already sore knee and the walking stick she had serendipitously acquired yesterday. She stoically navigated the rough and uneven path one step at a time with laser focus. When we arrived at the bottom, there was no rest for the weary. It was almost two more hours before we reached Hotel Mica at 3 PM. Its cool interior was a haven after the seemingly never-ending final stretch.

As soon as I settled into my room, I spent an hour practicing yoga. I’d brought a light travel-size yoga mat with me. It was a bit too thin and hard on my knees, but I was grateful I had it. I mouthed thanks to Travis Eliot (online yoga instructor) and Youtube for enabling me to stretch without using my own brain cells. The stretching soothed my aching limbs and my hips. Afterwards, a refreshing shower prepared me to explore with my friends and to search for nourishment.

The town of Palas de Reis was filled with pilgrims hunting for restaurants or lodgings, or simply wandering around watching the activities. We found a restaurant along the main strip. Since we got there early, we snagged a table quickly. Others weren’t so lucky and seeing the waiting patrons, we didn’t linger long over our food—it wasn’t bacon.

After dinner, we window shopped for a bit. I wasn’t overly enthusiastic as I could feel my legs dragging like wood. I winced every time I saw a staircase, but I figured if Giulia didn’t complain then neither should I. By now even John’s lower-back pain started to raise its ugly head, but Carla, the Energizer bunny rabbit, powered on like she had an endless supply of energy.

We returned to our hotel before it became completely dark. That night as I slipped under my covers, I reflected on how I had managed my aches and pains with sheer brain power. I noticed I’d walked with a bounce this morning because I slept through the previous night. But as the day progressed I had trouble lifting one foot in front of the other. Later I got my second wind from knowing I was closing in on the destination. 

So if you find yourself walking part of or the entire Camino de Santiago, practice dropping into your mental space. You’ll tap into a hidden reservoir of strength you never knew existed. And don’t underestimate the power of a restful night. Having walked the Camino twice, I’ve learned a trick or two about making it to the finish line.